What's in a name?
by dalex.allen
Summary: It came the night Scott was bitten. And it threatened to destroy Stiles' entire life. Demon!Stiles fic, AU after Scott gets the bite. Multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

It came the night Scott was bitten.

On the way to Scott's house, excitement filling his bones at the thought of finding the body of the girl, Stiles kept hearing rustling in the leaves. It scared him, a lot, but he kept going. He felt better when he was with Scott. Less alone. Less vulnerable.

After he got caught by his father, Stiles was confined to his room, too late to do much of anything other than sleep. He could do homework, but that was so un-Stiles of him. So he changed into his pajamas and got under his covers. As usual, it took him about half an hour to calm down enough to even consider sleep. The Adderall didn't always help.

He'd almost drifted off when there was a knock on his window.

Stiles sat straight up in bed, heart in his throat. "Dad?" There was another knock. Stiles looked around his room, grabbing his lacrosse stick and stepping carefully towards the window.

There was no one outside. Stiles gripped the lacrosse stick harder and opened the window, sticking his head out and looking for something, anything, that could've made that noise.

A gust of wind blasted him in the face; he was thrown back into his room, landing with a _thump_ by his bed. His heart was pounding. He thought he'd heard a laugh on the wind.

Another gust of wind blew into his room. Okay, he definitely heard something that time. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, a small, dark mist shot into his mouth. He coughed, trying to spit it back out. He felt the mist tickle his throat as it moved down, deeper, into his stomach. He looked down at his abdomen. He pulled up his shirt and saw a dark spot on his chest, over his heart. He rubbed at it; nothing happened. It didn't even feel different.

Perhaps he was dreaming. Stiles had had lucid dreams before, and knew that if he was dreaming, he could control it. So he thought hard about coughing up that mist. Nothing. Breathing fast, he dropped the lacrosse stick and pinched the skin on his arm, hoping against hope that it wouldn't hurt. It didn't.

Letting out the breath he hadn't known he was holding, Stiles leaned back against his bed, grateful to know this was a dream. But if it was a dream, and it was lucid now, why couldn't he control it? Why couldn't he cough up the mist?

_Because it's not a dream._

Stiles looked around his room, hands clenched into fists. That hadn't been his thought, but it had been in his brain. A low, gravelly voice.

He needed to wake up, that was all. He'd just call for his dad.

_Don't you dare._

"Please," he whispered, his voice sounding so small and yet so loud in the darkness. "Please let me call my dad."

_You're mine now. You'll do as I say._

He opened his mouth, about to scream for his father, when suddenly he couldn't breathe. He gagged, clawing at his throat, hitting his chest, trying to breathe.

_Doesn't feel good, does it, Stiles?_

"Please," he choked out. The pressure left his chest and he could breathe again. He gasped, trying to get as much oxygen in his body as he could.

_If you try telling anyone, I will not give you back your breath._

"Okay, okay," Stiles said, feeling strange talking to his own head.

_Oh, Stiles, I am not your own head. You must know that._

"Prove it."

There was a laugh in his head, or in the room, or both. Something stirred in the darkness.

Sheriff Stilinski was just about to get into bed when he heard his son scream. He knew immediately that something was wrong. It didn't sound like a video game yell or masturbation groan, which were the usual loud noises coming from Stiles' room. He might have just been talking in his sleep, although he had only been in his room twenty minutes, and the Sheriff knew Stiles was way too hyped-up to sleep that quickly.

"_MOMMY_!"

That chilled the Sheriff to his bones. Stiles only ever call his mother "Mommy" when he was scared. And his mother was dead.

The Sheriff ran down the hallway and burst into his son's room. Stiles was in the middle of the room, knees to his chest, arms over his head, rocking back and forth, sobbing.

"Stiles, Stiles, what happened?" the Sheriff said, kneeling beside his son. He put a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Stiles screamed, looking up. A look of pure relief crossed his face when he saw his father. "Oh, Dad, Daddy." He threw his arms around the Sheriff, holding tightly.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," the Sheriff said, reciprocating the hug. "What happened?"

"There was a knock on the window," Stiles gasped between sobs. He was still clutching his father as if he was afraid he'd disappear. "And it went inside me and said awful things and I saw Mom and she was rotten and her skin was falling off—"

"Stiles," the Sheriff said, stroking his son's hair. "Stiles, son, it was just a bad dream, okay? Everything's okay now, everything's fine. I'm here."

Stiles continued crying into his father's shoulder, shaking. The Sheriff looked at the ceiling, silently praying for…something. It was so hard to raise Stiles on his own. To be fair, it was difficult before, but it was even harder without his wife. Stiles was stubborn and hyperactive and such a troublemaker. There were many times when he just wanted to give up, wanted to leave Stiles to his own devices. But he couldn't. He had an obligation to the skinny, shaking mess in his arms.

"Dad, can I sleep in your bed?" Stiles asked after a few minutes.

"Of course, Stiles. Come on." The Sheriff helped his son off the ground and led him to the master bedroom, one hand on his shoulder at all times. Stiles curled up under the blankets, but his eyes were still wide open.

"Come on, son, you need to sleep. You have school tomorrow."

"When I close my eyes, I see Mom."

The Sheriff sighed, reaching into his bedside table and grabbing a sleeping pill. "Here," he said, giving it to his son. "This'll help."

Stiles dry-swallowed the pill and put his head back on the pillow. He was asleep within ten minutes.

The Sheriff woke up with his alarm the next morning. Turning over, he noticed the bed was empty. Oh, no.

"STILES!" he shouted, jumping out of bed. "STILES, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Stiles appeared at the doorway, completely dressed, toothbrush in his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Stiles, God damn it, don't you ever do that." The Sheriff rushed forward and hugged him.

"Dad, Jesus, what is it?" Stiles asked, patting his dad on the back.

"Don't you remember?" The Sheriff pulled back. "Last night. You were screaming and crying about something."

Stiles furrowed his brow. "No. Maybe I was dreaming."

The Sheriff looked his son over, making sure he wasn't hurt. "Right. Dreaming. Go get ready."

"I was." Stiles went back to the bathroom.

What the hell was going on? FIrst, he screams and cries about seeing his mother, then he forgets all about it? The Sheriff shook his head, walking to his closet to start getting ready. They didn't run into each other until Stiles came downstairs for breakfast.

"So what happened?" he asked, grabbing the bowl of cereal his dad handed him. "Last night."

"You were screaming so I went into your room," the Sheriff said, leaning against the counter. "You said something about a knock on your window and then you said you saw your mom."

Stiles paused, spoon inches from his mouth. "I don't remember any of that. Maybe it was, like, when I'm halfway between asleep and awake. It's happened before."

"Yeah." The Sheriff didn't mention that the last time that happened was the night Stiles' mother died.

"Anyway, I should go. See you, Dad."

"Stiles, don't forget that you're still in trouble for sneaking out."


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles was only a few blocks from his house on his way to school when his phone vibrated. Keeping in mind his father's words ("If you text and drive, and don't die from it, I will kill you."), he pulled over and looked at it. There was nothing there.

"Weird," he said quietly, tossing his phone back on the passenger seat.

_I had to get you pulled over._

"JESUS CHRIST!"

_No, just me. That was impressive lying this morning. Well done, Stiles._

"Yeah, sure."

_You will not tell Scott McCall anything._

"You still haven't told _me_ anything. I don't even know who you _are_."

_Who I am is not important. This is all about you, Stiles Stilinski._

Stiles sighed. "Just…leave me alone at school, okay? Or it'll raise suspicion."

_Of course. But I will be watching._

"Good," Stiles muttered, starting to drive again. When he arrived at school, he checked his phone and there was a text from Scott. "I've got a bad bite from last night. Show you at school."

Stiles stood by the front doors, waiting for Scott to show up. When he did, he was excited to see the bite. Scott lifted his shirt.

"It was too dark to see much," Scott said, "but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf."

"A _wolf_ bit you?" Stiles said as they started walking towards the building. "No. Not a chance."

"I heard a wolf howling."

"No, you didn't."

"What do you mean, 'no you didn't'? I know what I heard."

"Because California doesn't have wolves, okay? Not in like sixty years." Stiles felt the whatever-it-was inside him focus attention on that statement.

"Really?" Scott said, face falling.

"Yes, really, there are no wolves in California."

Scott paused. "Well if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you _definitely_won't believe me when I tell you I found the body."

The thing inside Stiles was definitely paying attention now. Stiles couldn't help but be excited as well. "Are you kidding me?"

Scott sighed. "I wish, I'm gonna have nightmares for a month."

"That is freaking awesome," Stiles said. "I mean, this is seriously going to be the best thing to happen to this town since…" He noticed his long-time crush Lydia walking past. "Since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey, Lydia! You look…" She walked past him without even glancing at him. "…like you're gonna ignore me." He looked back at Scott. "You're the cause of this."

"Uh-huh," Scott said, moving towards the school as the bell rang.

"You're dragging me down in your nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association."

_So, who is Lydia Martin?_

The voice interrupted Stiles as he was 'reading' the syllabus in his first class. Stiles clenched his fists; he couldn't respond, not in a quiet classroom.

_Ah…you've had romantic feelings for her for…ten years._

Stiles whipped his head up, wondering how the voice knew that.

_I have access to your brain, Stiles. Your memories. Your fears._

Stiles realized the thing could hear his thoughts, and thought about what this thing was.

_Alright, Stiles. I can see you are insistent and stubborn. I am exactly what you think I am. That is all I will tell you_.

A demon. Stiles had been afraid of that. He'd heard about possessions but never believed it was possible.

It didn't talk to him again until the end of the day, when Stiles took Scott to the woods to look for the body. Stiles felt that it was…sleeping, for lack of a better term. He could tell when it was active and paying attention, because it would stop unrelated thoughts, as it had earlier with the wolf tidbit. The rest of the time, it was like it wasn't there at all, except for the crippling fear and the ever-present mark on his chest.

Scott was leading the way, telling Stiles about his sudden ability to play lacrosse extremely well.

"And that's not the only weird thing," he said. "I hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear, smell things."

"Smell things," Stiles said, knowing the…_thing_ was listening. "Like what?"

Scott paused. "Like the gum in your pocket."

"I don't have any gum—" Stiles checked his pockets, and indeed had a piece of gum. He looked at Scott, who shrugged. "So," he continued, "all this started with the bite?"

"What if it's, like, an infection? Like my body is flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock, or something?"

"Y'know what, I actually think I've heard of this," Stiles said. "It's a specific kind of infection."

"Are you serious?" Scott asked, freezing in his tracks.

"Yeah, yeah, I think it's called lycanthropy." He was kidding, of course, but Scott looked terrified.

"What's that, is that bad?"

"Oh, yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month."

"Once a month?" Scott was quiet.

"Mmhmm. On the night of the full moon." Stiles howled like a wolf. Scott punched him in the chest. "Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling."

"There could be something seriously wrong with me!"

"I know! You're a werewolf!" Stiles said, growling. Scott glared at him. "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But, if you see me in the shop classes melting all the silver I can find, it's cuz Friday is a full moon."

Scott stopped walking, looking around at the ground. "I could've sworn this was it. The body, the deer came running, I dropped my inhaler," he said, kneeling and shifting the leaves.

"Maybe the killer moved the body," Stiles said.

"If he did, I hope he left my inhaler," Scott said. "Those things are, like, $80."

Stiles looked up and saw a man with dark hair and dark clothes standing a couple dozen feet from them. It was Derek Hale, a local boy whose family died a few years ago in a fire. He hit Scott to get his attention. Scott stood up quickly. Hale walked towards them. The thing inside Stiles (he still refused to call it a demon) seemed to be paying more attention than usual. Stiles felt himself recalling everything he knew about Hale.

"What are you doing here?" Hale said. "This is private property."

Stiles didn't like this guy. He was creepy. "Uh, sorry, man," he said. "We didn't know."

"Yeah," Scott said, "we were just looking for something, but…" Hale raised his eyebrows. "But forget it."

Hale tossed Scott his inhaler and walked away. The two boys were silent for a minute.

"Alright," Scott said, "come on, I've got to get to work."

"Dude!" Stiles said, stopping Scott from walking away. "That was Derek Hale! You remember, right? He's only, like, a few years older than us."

"Remember what?"

"His family? They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago."

They looked back the way Hale had come. "I wonder what he's doing back," Scott said.

Stiles shrugged. "Come on," he said, leading the way back to his Jeep.

Back home, Stiles confined himself to his room.

_So, why is Derek Hale back?_

"Jesus, I don't know," Stiles said. "You know everything I do."

_It won't help to not call me a demon, Stiles. I will not leave simply because you deny my existence._

"Oh, great," Stiles said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "I thought that would work."

Stiles' phone vibrated. It was Scott: "I asked out Allison and she said yes!" Allison was a girl Scott had met today in class. He hadn't shut up about her all day. Stiles texted back: "That's awesome, dude!"

_Focus, Stiles._ Thoughts of Scott and Allison were swiped from his brain.

"Hey, that's not fair!"

_I told you to focus._

He could only think of Derek Hale.

"Scott's my friend! Just leave me alone—" He suddenly couldn't talk. He could breathe, but nothing would leave his mouth.

_That's better. Now, go to your father's study and find out everything you can about Derek Hale._

Stiles shook his head. He wouldn't break into private police records. No way.

_You leave me no choice._

The next thing Stiles knew, he was sitting in his father's study, papers all around him. He looked at the clock; it was three hours later than he remembered. His heart started pounding.

"What's happening?" he asked, glad he could speak again.

_I got what I needed._

Stiles shivered, hands shaking as he gathered the papers together and put them back in a folder. Then he went downstairs, where his father was just setting the table for dinner.

"Hello, Stiles," the Sheriff said. "How was your first day back at school?"

Stiles didn't respond, taking his plate and sitting at the table.

"Earth to Stiles," the Sheriff said, sitting next to him.

"What? Oh, yeah, it was fine. Scott has a date."

"Oh, that's good. Also, I noticed you were out today. I told you, you're not supposed to leave the house."

"Sorry, Dad," Stiles said, not really paying attention. How had the thing made him black out?

After dinner, he went to his room and tried to work on homework, but couldn't focus. He just kept thinking about how he blacked out for three hours. What the hell had happened?

_I was showing you my power, Stiles Stilinski. I can take over your brain and control you. So do as I say, or I will do it again_.

"Alright," Stiles said, incredibly freaked out. "What do you want me to do?"

_Kill Derek Hale._


	3. Chapter 3

"STILES!"

Stiles jumped. His father was calling from down the hall, his study. Oh no. He'd forgotten to put away the Derek Hale file. He got up and went to the study.

"What's up, Dad?"

"Why the hell were you looking through my stuff?" the Sheriff asked. "This is private, police property!"

"I was…" He stammered, trying to think of an answer.

_You went looking for something you dropped the other night and saw him._

Stiles repeated the story to his father.

"So that's why you were out this afternoon?" Stiles nodded. "Well, that's no excuse to break into police records. I'm going to put a lock on this door if you do it again, understood?"

"Yes, Dad," Stiles said. He went back to his room, closing the door behind him.

_You'll have to be more careful._

"You're the one who didn't put the file away. I had no idea where it came from."

_Your snark may work on others, Stiles, but it won't work on me. Do I need to show you your mother again?_

"NO!" Stiles hadn't meant to be that loud. He listened for a moment to see if his father would check on him; he didn't.

_I think it's time you went to sleep._

Stiles woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed but still terrified. The thing made him sleep on command. What else could it make him do?

As he was getting ready, he heard his father on the phone.

"Hello?…Yes, I remember….Did you get the results, or didn't you?…A _wolf_? No. No way. That's not possible….I'll be in as soon as I can."

"What was that?" Stiles asked, poking his head in the dining room.

"I've got to go in early. No funny business."

Stiles watched his dad leave, heart pounding. A wolf attacked the girl. Oh man.

At school, they were getting ready for the first elimination rounds of the term for the lacrosse team. Stiles was waiting patiently for Scott.

When he finally saw him, he ran towards him, shouting, "Scott! Scott! Wait up!"

Scott turned. "Stiles, I'm playing in the first elimination round, can it wait?"

"Just hold on, okay?" Stiles said, catching his breath. "I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from the lab in LA. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods!"

Scott reached for his gear. "Stiles, I've gotta go."

"Wait no!" Stiles tried to grab him but couldn't hold on. "You're not gonna believe what the animal was!" Scott was already on the field. "It was a wolf," Stiles said quietly.

"Okay, gather 'round!" Coach Finstock said. Stiles joined the group, ready for the usual speech about making the cut.

When Finstock was done, they started playing a practice game, Stiles sitting on the bench, as usual. Scott was knocked down within seconds by Jackson Whittemore, Lydia's boyfriend. They started the next round, and Scott quickly grabbed the ball and ran towards the goal. He dodged people with amazing skill, ending by jumping over three players and throwing the ball in the goal. Everyone cheered.

_That's not normal skill for him._

"No, he usually sucks," Stiles said under his breath.

"McCall!" Coach Finstock yelled. "Get over here!"

Scott ran to stand in front of him.

"What in God's name was that?" Finstock asked. "This is a lacrosse field! What, are you trying out for the…gymnastics team?"

"No, Coach."

"What the hell was that?"

Scott stammered. "I don't know. I was just trying to make the shot."

"Yeah, well, you made the shot. And guess what? You're starting, buddy. You made first line!"

The crowd behind them cheered again.

_What is going on with Scott?_

"Hell, I don't know," Stiles said.

That day after school, without any prompting from the thing, Stiles searched the Internet for information about werewolves. Aconite, wolfsbane, silver bullets, super hearing, super sight, super smell…there was so much information. He kept researching into the night and was still looking when there was a knock on his door that evening.

Stiles jumped, closing his computer and answering the door. It was Scott.

"Dude, you've gotta see this," Stiles said, letting Scott in and closing the door. "I've been up all night, reading. Websites, books, all this information."

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked.

Stiles shrugged. "A lot? Doesn't matter. Okay? Just listen."

"Is this about the body?" Scott said, sitting on the bed. "Did they find out who did it?"

"Nah, they're still questioning people. Even Derek Hale."

"Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day."

"Yes, but that's not it, okay?"

Scott looked at Stiles, confused. "What, then?"

"Remember the joke from the other day? It's not a joke anymore." Scott was just staring at him. "The wolf, the bite in the woods! I started doing all this reading—Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?"

"It's a signal, okay?" Stiles was now standing, pacing around the room. "When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby, I mean, maybe even a whole pack of them."

That got to Scott. "A whole pack of wolves?"

"No," Stiles said, as if it was obvious. "Werewolves."

Scott stared at him. "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."

"I saw you on the field today, Scott," Stiles said, blocking Scott's exit. "What you did wasn't just amazing, alright, it was impossible."

Scott looked let down. "Yeah, so I made a good shot…"

"No! You made an incredible shot! I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes, people can't just suddenly do that overnight! And there's the vision, and the senses, and don't think I don't notice you don't need your inhaler anymore—"

"Okay! I can't think about this now! We'll talk tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! What, no, the full moon's tonight! Don't you get it?"

"What are you trying to do? I just made first line, I've got a date with a girl I can't believe wants to go out with me, everything in my life is somehow perfect, why are you trying to ruin it?"

Stiles sighed. "I'm trying to help." He paused. "You're cursed, Scott. And you know, it's not just that the moon will cause you to physically change, it also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

Scott stared at him. "Bloodlust?"

"Yeah, your urge to kill."

Scott took a deep breath. "I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles."

Stiles reached behind him for a book. "You've gotta hear this. 'The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.'" He looked up at Scott. "Alright? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You've gotta cancel this date." He started searching Scott's backpack for his phone. "You've gotta call her right now."

"What are you doing?"

Stiles found his phone, pulling it out. "I'm cancelling the date for you—"

"NO! GIVE IT TO ME!" Scott shouted, pushing Stiles up against the wall and pulling back his fist, like he was going to punch him. Stiles screwed up his face, ready for the impact. Instead, Scott yelled out and pushed over the computer chair.

_I think you have your answer, Stiles. He's a werewolf._

Scott looked from Stiles to his computer chair and back, breathing heavily. Stiles couldn't say anything. He wasn't sure how he felt. Admittedly, Scott was under the influence of the full moon, and he had just threatened his chance at a date. But still…

"I'm sorry," Scott said, taking a step back.

Stiles still didn't say anything. Maybe being best friends with a werewolf wasn't the best thing in the world.

"I've gotta go get ready for that party," Scott said, taking his bag and walking towards the door. Before he left, he turned back. "I'm sorry," he said again, then left.

Stiles clenched his jaw, leaning against the wall for a second before stepping forward to pick up the chair again.

There were three claw marks on the back of the chair.

"Oh, God," Stiles said quietly. "That could've been me."

_Scott is too loyal to attack his best friend._

"Why is this happening?"

_I don't know, but when I find out, I can fix it._

"Yeah, why do I feel like your way of 'fixing it' isn't good?"

The thing laughed. _You're beginning to understand, Stiles. Now, I ask you one thing._

"One thing? You've already asked me to commit murder."

_I want you to go to that party Scott was talking about. At Lydia's house._

"My dad wouldn't—"

_Stiles, there are ways of going. If you can't be sneaky enough, I can help you._

"No, I'm fine. I'll go."

Sheriff Stilinski stood at the bottom of the stairs. "Stiles, dinner's ready!" There was no response, but that was normal. So he went back into the dining room, setting the table.

Stiles appeared on the stairs, wearing a nice button-down shirt and a tie.

"What's the occasion?" the Sheriff asked.

"Party at Lydia's."

"Oh, no, you don't. You're still grounded."

Stiles sighed. "Look, Dad, I have to go." He walked towards the front door.

"Stiles Stilinski, come sit down for dinner."

Stiles was facing away from his father. "No," he said quietly.

"No? What the hell do you mean, no? Come eat, or go to your room."

Stiles was shaking his head. "I can't." That was quiet, as if he was talking to himself.

"You can't. Fine. Let's go." The Sheriff put his hand on Stiles' shoulder, meaning to turn him around.

Stiles turned quickly, swatted the Sheriff's hand away, and pinned him against the wall by his throat, a few inches off the ground.

His eyes were black.

"Stiles—" The Sheriff could barely breathe.

Stiles—or whatever the hell it was—laughed. "Stiles isn't here anymore."


	4. Chapter 4

The thing had possessed him, but he could still see and hear what it was saying to his father.

"Please—" The Sheriff was choking, Stiles' extreme strength too much for him. Stiles wasn't normally strong at all.

"Alright," the thing said, letting the Sheriff fall in a heap on the ground. It was using Stiles' voice. "But only because killing the sheriff would raise too much suspicion."

"What the hell are you?"

It cocked its head. "Outwardly, I am your son. Inwardly…I'll leave that to your imagination."

The Sheriff was staring at it. "Get out of my son."

It knelt beside the Sheriff. "Oh, Sheriff, would that really make things better? Would you pay attention to him? Treat him like your son?"

The Sheriff's face was contorted in anger. "I do treat him like my son—"

"No, no you don't. We both know you're a terrible parent without your wife. How have you failed to notice how sad Stiles is? How have you failed to notice how much more he's acted out?"

"I've noticed—"

"I'm talking!" it shouted, a little bit of the voice from Stiles' head creeping into the voice it was using. "You're a failure, Sheriff. He doesn't respect you. He doesn't love you. He's only sticking around because you're a pathetic drunk who would fall apart without him."

"No," the Sheriff said, tears filling his eyes. "No."

Stiles was angry, angrier than he's ever been. He hated hearing his voice say that to his father. He focused all his attention on getting his body back.

"I need you to butt out of his life for a while," it said. "Ignore what he's doing. Because what he's doing is more important than anything you will ever do."

"I created him." The Sheriff seemed to be angry again. "That was the most important thing I ever did."

Stiles felt a surge of love for his father. Suddenly, he was back in control of his body. He could tell from the look of relief on his dad's face that his dad noticed it too.

"Dad, I'm—"

"Don't," he said, pulling his son into a hug. "Is it gone?"

_Stiles, you can't beat me. I will win._

"No," Stiles said. "It's still there."

"What the hell is it? No, nevermind, just…go to the party."

"Dad—"

"You can barely lift your school textbooks, but it could lift me. I don't want you getting hurt."

_He's smart. Listen to him. But now I have to punish you._

"Oh, God," Stiles said. "What now?"

_You must kill Scott McCall too._

Stiles had blacked out on the way to the party, but was given control of his body once he was there.

"I can't kill Scott," he said. "He's my best friend."

_He's a wolf, Stiles. You remember why I asked you to kill Derek Hale?_

"You didn't ask me, you told me I had to."

_And now you know why._

Stiles poured himself some punch, hoping no one would notice his muttering.

"Derek's a werewolf."

_Yes, Stiles. Werewolves are dangerous, bloodthirsty creatures. You read all those accounts. They must be killed._

"I can't. Not Scott." Stiles looked up and saw Scott dancing with Allison. Could he really kill his best friend? The thing would find a way, he knew that. He didn't want to research Derek Hale so it possessed him. He didn't want to yell at his father so it possessed him then, too. How had he managed to break it that time? What had happened?

_Stiles, don't for a minute think you can beat me again. Your father is stronger than I thought. I assumed he would break but he didn't._

"I beat you, though. Somehow."

Scott was pushing his way through the crowd, head down, groaning. He staggered up to Stiles, who saw his eyes tinge slightly gold.

"Dude, you okay?" Stiles asked. Scott didn't respond, instead making his way to his car and driving off. Allison had followed him to the front of the house. Stiles moved so he could watch her.

Derek Hale appeared, walked up to Allison, and introduced himself. They talked for a minute (Stiles couldn't hear) and then Allison got in Derek's car and they drove off.

"Shit," Stiles said. "It's the full moon. What's he gonna do?"

_Let's go find out. Follow him._

Stiles got in his Jeep and followed Derek's black car at a safe distance, hoping Derek wouldn't notice. Scott said he had super scent; could Derek smell him?

_Forget Derek._ The interruption of his thoughts was sudden, so sudden it made him jump and swerve slightly. _Go to Scott's house. We'll deal with Derek later._

"Scott's? Why?"

_It's his first full moon. Yes, he's more bloodthirsty, but he doesn't have control yet. He'll be easy to kill._

Stiles pulled over so he wouldn't crash. "I can't kill my best friend."

_You will. I will make sure he is dead by this time tomorrow._

"I beat you with love earlier, I can beat you again."

It laughed. _You didn't beat me with love. You set me back a few steps. But I can run, Stiles, much faster than you._

"I won't do it. And I won't let you control me."

It laughed again.

Stiles woke up outside Scott's house, about to knock on the door.

"What, too scared to knock?" he said quietly as he rapped the door with his knuckles.

_You know why I can't. Mrs. McCall mustn't suspect a thing._

Scott's mom answered the door. "Stiles," she said. "Is everything alright?"

"Is Scott back?"

"Yeah, he said he wasn't feeling well and went to his room. Why?"

"I'm gonna go talk to him, is that okay?" He was already in the entrance hall. Mrs. McCall nodded, closing the front door. Stiles paused outside Scott's doorway, knowing the thing would control him if he didn't kill Scott.

"Stiles!" Scott said, sitting on the floor, handcuffed to his heater.

"Scott," Stiles said, feeling the thing focusing his thoughts on Scott. "I can't do this."

_You will, Stiles._

"I can't." Scott was staring at Stiles, eyes shifted to gold but nothing else changed.

All thoughts were gone, he felt the thing starting to gain control of him. He held it off, thinking about the first time Scott ever talked to him, the first time they'd hung out outside of school, the first time they'd had a sleepover.

_You can't win, Stiles._

"Why do you call me Stiles?" he said, not caring that Scott could see this exchange.

_What do you mean?_

"You don't know my real name."

"Yeah, I do," Scott said. "It's—"

"DON'T!" Stiles felt the thing lose control of his mind. "Don't say it, Scott."

"What the hell is going on? I'm having a crisis over here!"

"You don't know my name, that's why I beat you."

_Tell me, Stiles. Tell me now._

"Never."

The thing took over his mind again.

Scott wasn't sure what was happening. Stiles was talking to himself but someone else. His eyes seemed to be tinged black, which was weird since his eyes were normally really bright.

"You don't know my name," he said. "That's why I beat you."

Scott looked around, wondering if he was talking to Derek or some other wolf. But he couldn't be, Stiles doesn't have super hearing and Scott would be able to hear.

"Never."

Suddenly, Stiles threw his head back, and when he looked at Scott again, his eyes were completely black. Although he no longer had pupils, Scott could tell it was looking at him. He vaguely noted the change of pronouns in his mind when it spoke.

"What's Stiles' real name?"

"I won't tell you." Scott wasn't even thinking about the full moon anymore. "I don't know what you are, but you're not Stiles, and he made me promise not to tell anyone his name."

It cocked its head, smiling slightly. "Fine. Then I'll kill you now."

Scott's heart skipped a beat. It looked like it really wanted to kill him. He pulled at the handcuffs and they broke off, allowing him to stand up and start changing into a werewolf. He felt his claws and teeth grow.

It laughed. "Oh, Scott McCall, you can't beat me with claws. Your precious Stiles is gone."

"You don't know his name," he said. It felt weird to talk with his new teeth. "I know he's still in there."

"Just like you knew that your father would come back?"

Scott clenched his teeth.

"I have access to Stiles' memories, Scott. I know what happened with your parents. Your father left you and your mother. Left you because he hated you—"

"That's not true!" Scott shouted, immediately aware that his mother might hear him.

"Your father couldn't stand you, Scott." It smiled. "And neither can your mother. No one likes you, McCall. Stiles is your friend because he feels sorry for you, the poor boy who lost his father _without actually losing his father_. Allison pities you too. You can't play lacrosse. You're a complete failure."

Scott was shaking with anger. He lunged forward and held Stiles to the wall by his throat.

"Go ahead, Scott, kill this body. You'll only be killing Stiles. You can't kill me with claws or fangs." It didn't seem to have any trouble breathing, despite Scott's grip on its throat. Stiles' throat. "I know your full name, Scott McCall, I could possess you much easier than Stiles. If you kill him, I will possess you."

Scott stepped back, letting go of Stiles' throat. He couldn't kill his best friend. But he couldn't stay here. His mom would walk in on them. So he grabbed Stiles' arm and yanked him out the window, running into the nearby woods. He stopped when he heard leaves crunching. He crouched down, not letting go of Stiles' arm. There it was again, and the smell was familiar…he'd smelled that the day in the woods when they got his inhaler…

"Derek," he said quietly.

"Yes," Derek said from a few steps away. "Keep it down. There are hunters."

"What are hunters?"

An arrow whizzed by his head, narrowly missing him. Derek growled and grabbed him, running with both Scott and Stiles in tow, hiding at the first chance they had.

"What are they?"

Derek shushed him, cautiously looking over his shoulder. "Don't say a word and don't move a muscle."

Scott looked at Stiles, whose eyes were still black, and covered his mouth with one clawed hand. If it wanted to kill him, it probably wouldn't mind killing Derek too. They waited for what seemed like forever, but eventually Derek loosened his grip on Scott.

"Those are hunters," he said quietly. "They want to kill werewolves and you were stupid enough to talk when I told you not to." He glanced at Stiles and did a quick double-take. "What the hell—"

Stiles, or the thing inside of him, twisted his arm out of Scott's grip and grabbed him around the throat. Scott tried scratching him, but Derek punched Stiles and knocked him out. He fell to the ground in a heap.

"Don't scratch him!" Derek said angrily. "You'd turn him!"

"What, like you turned me?" Scott was still scared by the entire exchange.

"I didn't bite you, Scott." He seemed to be telling the truth; his heartbeat wasn't changing. "Someone else did."

"Who, then?"

Derek shrugged, picking up Stiles and carrying him over his shoulder. "Lead me to his house. We don't want him waking up."

"What's inside of him, Derek?" Scott asked, following Derek out of the woods. "His eyes aren't normally black like that. And he's so strong."

Derek didn't say anything. They emerged from the woods and saw that Scott's mom had taken the car. She was on duty at the hospital tonight.

"Is that his car?" Derek said, pointing to the blue Jeep in Scott's driveway. Scott nodded. "You drive. I'll watch him."

"Why do I have to drive?"

"Firstly, you know where he lives. Secondly, I'm stronger and in control of my powers."

They got in the car, Scott in the driver's seat and Derek holding Stiles in the back.

"So who bit you?" Scott asked as they started towards Stiles' house.

"No one," Derek responded. "I was born with the powers. My family has been werewolves for generations."

"Is there any way to get rid of it?"

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You have to kill whoever bit you."

Scott chuckled. "Great. So how do I kill you?"

"I didn't bite you, Scott."

"Then why are you back in Beacon Hills?"

Derek pursed his lips, looking out the window. "Because that girl who was killed, ripped in half, that was my sister."

Scott looked at him in the rearview mirror but didn't say anything. They were silent until they pulled into Stiles' driveway. Scott breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the Sheriff's car wasn't there. That made things easier. Derek carried the unconscious Stiles up to his room and put him on the bed. Scott leaned down and pulled up an eyelid: normal. Good.

"So who bit me?"

Derek sighed, sitting in Stiles' computer chair. "I don't know, Scott. What do you remember?"

Scott sat on the bed at Stiles' feet. "It was big and hairy and looked like a regular wolf. Not how I look when I change."

Derek's eyes flashed. "What color were its eyes?"

"Jesus, Derek, it was dark and it happened so quickly—"

"What color, Scott?"

Scott thought for a second. "Red."

"An Alpha." Scott looked confused. "You were bit by an Alpha, Scott. We're Betas, you and me. Not as powerful. That means you're part of its pack. Oh, man, Scott, you're in deeper than I thought."

"If I kill this Alpha, I won't be a werewolf anymore?" Scott was eager.

Derek shrugged. "Possibly."

"Then do it," Stiles said, sitting up straight. His eyes were normal, but Scott still jumped at the suddenness of the interruption. "You have to kill it." He looked around the room and noticed Derek. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"Stiles, he helped get you home."

Stiles closed his eyes, rolling his head back and forth, and when he opened them again, they were black. He looked from Scott to Derek and back again.

"If you want to live," it said to Scott, "you will kill Derek."


	5. Chapter 5

Derek grabbed Scott and jumped out of Stiles' window, running as fast as he could. He heard Scott panting behind him, glad that he was at least following him. After they'd been running for a few minutes, Derek, stopped, holding an arm out to stop Scott. They were deep in the woods, almost near the remains of the Hale house.

"What the hell is going on, Derek?" Scott said, leaning against a tree to catch his breath.

"He's possessed." Derek was looking around, positive he'd heard someone moving around. "By some kind of demon. I've seen those kind of eyes before."

"Yeah, earlier today—"

"No, Scott. I've seen people be possessed before. I need you to stay away from him."

"I can't, Derek, he's my best friend and we're teammates—"

"Scott!" Derek stepped forward, face-to-face with Scott. He tried not to show how scared he really was. "Stiles isn't Stiles anymore. He's gone."

"No, he isn't." Scott took a step back. "He said the thing didn't know his real name."

Derek frowned. "What's his real name?"

"He made me promise not to tell. But the thing doesn't know it and it can't control him forever." Scott looked hopeful. "There's still a chance to save him, isn't there?"

"I don't know. There's one person I could talk to but…"

"But what?"

Derek sighed, turning away. "The fire."

"They're dead?"

"No, Scott. My uncle, Peter, he was the only survivor. He managed to get free but his face was burned and he's been catatonic ever since."

Something howled in the distance. Derek noticed Scott perk up and start to shift, moving in the direction of the howl. That must have been the Alpha, calling to Scott.

"Scott," Derek said, putting his hands on Scott's shoulders and looking him in the eyes. "That's the Alpha. You're drawn to him because he's calling for you. If you follow it, you'll know who bit you."

"And I can kill him."

"NO! You can't. You're too inexperienced and rash and you'd just die in the process." Derek let him go, stepping back. "I'll go with you. As a wolf. Because whoever it is, they're powerful. They'll know what to do about Stiles."

Derek shifted and started off towards the howling. He heard Scott shift and follow him. The wolf howled again, and Derek changed his course slightly. He was running straight for his own house. What the hell was going on? He'd told Scott he came back because of his sister, but that wasn't true. He'd overheard another pack talking about a sudden increase of activity in this area, an increase that werewolves feared to talk about. Demons. Werewolf legend told of demons trying to possess werewolves and commit horrific murders. That was why wolves now hid from people, even societies that worship wolves.

In the trees around his house, Derek stopped, peering around for something, anything. Scott came to a stop next to him.

"I can't smell anything different," Derek murmured.

"Maybe he's gone."

"Seems like it." Derek went into the house, still not smelling anything different. He sat on the foot of the stairs, head swirling with theories. "I think it bit you because it knew the demon was here, too."

"Too?" Scott said. "You knew?"

"That's why I'm here. You've felt Stiles' strength; imagine if it possessed a werewolf. It's easier to kill with claws and fangs. We need to beat it." He paused. "I need to visit my uncle."

"You said he's in a coma."

"Not in a coma, he's catatonic." Scott stared at him blankly. Derek rolled his eyes. "Google it later. Come on. We're going."

"Now? I have to be back at home—"

"Do you want to help Stiles or not?"

Scott bit his lip. "Fine. Let's go."

Stiles woke up on his bed, his knuckles hurting. He looked around and saw a hole in his wall. So it had punched the wall. Why?

_Your friends left._

"Please, you have to explain more."

_You followed Scott and ran into Derek, who knocked you out and brought you here. When I took over, they left._

"Yes, I wonder why. I'm gonna have to explain that hole to my dad."

_That doesn't matter to me, Stiles. Tell me your name._

"No." Stiles was extremely glad that he'd chosen to go by Stiles all this time. He never thought about his real name. "And you're going to have to be more subtle if you want them dead. They know about you now. They'll be more careful around me."

_You need a history lesson, Stiles. Listen well._

Derek pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home, knowing they were most likely closed to visitors but not worried about that. He could find a way in.

"It looks closed," Scott said, getting out of the car.

"Scott, I'm a werewolf. I think I can get in." He walked around the back, testing the supply door, which was open as usual. He tiptoed through the building, knowing Scott was following him. They reached Peter's room and saw that it was empty.

"Oh, God," Derek said. "My uncle's gone."

"Gone where?"

"I don't know, Scott, I'm not God or something!"

"It's good you realized that, Derek." That was Peter's voice. Derek whipped around and saw his supposedly catatonic uncle standing at the end of the hallway. His face was no longer burned.

"What's happening?" Scott asked.

"Scott, SHUT UP," Derek said, stepping between his uncle and the young wolf.

"He's not your pack, Derek."

Derek shifted, growling at Peter. Peter cocked his head, smiling slightly.

"You'll want me on your side," he said, stepping backwards. "Until you realize that, I'd better get out of your way. Wouldn't want you to do anything rash." He turned and disappeared.

"I really need to go home, Derek," Scott said. "This is freaking me out."

After driving Scott home, Derek went to the Hale house and wandered around the wreckage. A demon was possessing Stiles, Scott was bitten, and Peter wasn't catatonic anymore. A few days ago, Derek didn't have any idea who Scott and Stiles even were. But if he was going to fight the demon and the Alpha, he needed Scott on his side, so he couldn't just kill Stiles, as much as he wanted to.

"All that information," Stiles said, "means I can figure out who you are."

_You know I won't let you._

"No, but Scott and Derek can figure it out too." Stiles paused. "Okay, Derek can figure it out."

_It's good you recognize how dim-witted Scott is._

"He isn't stupid, just a little slow sometimes."

_Always loyal, Stiles Stilinski. Loyalty won't save you._

"It might."

It was a few days before the thing spoke to Stiles again. Scott was avoiding him at school, which was understandable. He had threatened to kill him a few times. Allison seemed to have forgiven Scott for ditching her at the party on Friday.

The Sheriff wasn't talking to him much either. He was either at work or locked in his study. Stiles felt the absence in everything he did. His dad didn't even eat with him anymore. It was disconcerting.

_Stiles, I need you to find out about Derek's uncle._

"Why?" He was sitting in his room, doing homework.

_I heard Derek talk about his uncle that night. The night of the full moon._

"That was like a week ago. Why are you only bringing it up now?"

_Because I realized I didn't read much about Peter Hale in the file._

"I'm not breaking into my dad's study and I won't let you force me."

_I don't suggest breaking into anything. Just ask your father._

"He'd never agree to it. He'd never agree to help you."

_He'll have no choice._

"DEREK!" Scott shouted outside Derek's house. "I know you're in there!"

Derek opened the door, leaning against the doorway with his arms folded.

"I need to help Stiles," Scott said. "I can't keep ignoring him."

"You need to. Until I figure out what's controlling him, you need to stay away."

"Can't you figure it out? I've told you everything I know."

Derek sighed. "We also have to figure out who bit you, because they might be able to help us defeat Stiles."

"The demon."

"Sorry?"

"You said defeat Stiles. Stiles isn't the problem."

Derek glared at him. Scott almost felt his eyes burning into him.

"Look, you don't know Stiles," he said. "He's a great guy. Funny and loyal and he wouldn't intentionally do anything to hurt me or any of his friends."

"We need to find the Alpha and we need to defeat the demon. Bonding can occur later."

"Why not now?"

Scott whipped around and saw Stiles standing by his Jeep, hands in his pockets, eyes normal. Scott shifted, and he heard Derek shift behind him.

"No, don't do that," Stiles said, face falling. Scott shifted back. "I'm not here to attack you. I'm here for information."

"What kind of information?" Derek asked. Scott looked back and noticed he was still a wolf.

"About Peter Hale. There's something important that we're all missing and it's got something to do with him."

"Why should we help you?"

"Because it might save me."

"We have to do it, Derek," Scott said.

Derek looked at Stiles for a minute before shifting back. "What do you need?"

"What happened to him after the fire?"

Derek glanced around and nodded inside the half-burned mansion. The three boys congregated in the small entrance way.

"He found a way out but couldn't save the others," Derek said. "Half his face burned. He went catatonic for years. Until the full moon."

"What happened then?"

Derek adjusted his stance. "I don't want that demon knowing."

"Peter was up and walking and his face wasn't burned," Scott said, flinching as Derek moved to hit him. "I have to save my friend!"

"Derek," Stiles said quietly. Derek looked at him intensely. "The first. He was—"

Stiles' voice cut off suddenly; he was still breathing, but he couldn't say anything. Scott assumed it was the demon. He looked at Derek, whose face was frozen in shock. Stiles suddenly hit the bannister violently.

"I won't tell you anything else," he said. "I can't. Take me to Peter."

Derek nodded, leading them all out to Stiles' Jeep.

They pulled into the parking lot, Derek in shotgun so he could direct Stiles. Derek nearly jumped out of the car when they stopped.

"Let's hope he's actually here," he said, leading them inside. Derek nodded at the receptionist, who must recognize him from his frequent visits, and strode through the hallway until he reached Peter's room. His uncle was sitting in his wheelchair as usual, his face half-burned. Derek rushed to his side and knelt in front of him, trying to get some kind of response. He was catatonic again.

"Stiles, I'm not lying," Scott said behind him. "He was up and walking and everything."

"Something's not right," Stiles said.

"Peter," Derek said quietly. "Please, we need your help. I don't know what happened last full moon but we need you."

"I'd be willing to." Stiles was incredibly quiet, as if he was talking to himself. Or the demon. "I don't care. I won't kill them."

"What's it saying?"

"That if I help you instead of kill you, it'll kill me."

Derek stared at him, a strange feeling rising inside him. Stiles just said he was willing to die instead of killing him and Scott. What the hell is wrong with this kid? He turned back to Peter and whispered, so Stiles couldn't hear, "That kid over there, he's possessed. By the first demon. We need help. I need its name." Nothing. "Peter, please. Give me some sign. Move a finger, something." Still nothing.

"Come on, Derek," Scott said. "He's not gonna do anything."

Derek nodded, getting up and turning towards the door. They were almost out of the room when he heard it.

"Later."

It was quiet, almost undetectable without wolf hearing. Derek froze, slowly turning back to his uncle. There was no sign that he'd moved.

"Did you—" Derek asked, turning to Scott. He nodded. Derek looked from Scott to Peter and back a few times. "Let's come back tonight. When everyone's gone."

"I don't want Stiles to come with us," Derek said as he was driving Scott home.

"Come on. We need to help him."

"The demon will do something. It must have a plan."

"What did you mean, the first demon?"

Derek sighed. "It's just a myth, a legend. Demons prefer to possess werewolves because we're stronger than humans. The legend is…the first demon is the most powerful, the most feared. It possessed an Alpha a long time ago and slaughtered an entire village. One person survived, a child, who left and told the story everywhere, about the man-wolf who killed everyone. Because of that, people started to fear werewolves. If it's back…if it's possessed Stiles…that's bad news, Scott."

"But it's just a legend, right?" Scott sounded terrified. Derek couldn't blame him.

"Werewolves are legends too, Scott."

They were silent. Derek heard the legends when he was younger, when his parents sat him down and explained what it meant to be a werewolf. He had nightmares for weeks about being possessed. Of course, no demon would possess a child, not even a child werewolf. But he didn't know that then.

"How do we beat it?"

"We say its name."

"Can't you just say it now?"

"It's not simple, Scott. We need Peter."

"And Stiles won't let us go without him." They'd arrived at Scott's house, but he didn't get out of Derek's car. "Derek, he's my best friend. We have to save him."

"Get out of the car," Derek said. "I'll be back tonight."

_If you want to save Scott, you have to kill the Alpha._

"Look, I don't even know who the Alpha is."

"Stiles, who are you talking to?" The Sheriff was right outside his door.

"Come in, Dad," Stiles said.

The Sheriff opened the door and stepped in. He looked like he didn't know what to do with himself. He also looked like he hadn't slept in a few days.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

"I don't know what's going on with you," the Sheriff said, "but I know it's bad. I know it's that…that thing inside you. I've heard you talking about saving yourself, and I don't care how it happens, but if you can save yourself, you do it, understand?"

"Dad—"

"No, Stiles, I can't watch you die. I can't. Not like…"

"Not like Mom," Stiles finished. "Dad, you have to listen to me. Saving me would mean killing two, possibly three people."

"I'm the sheriff, I know how to make it look like an accident—"

"DAD! I will not kill anyone!"

"I won't let you die!"

"This isn't about me! This is about Scott and…and the safety of this entire town!"

_Don't reveal too much, Stiles. The less he knows, the safer he is._

"I KNOW!" Stiles shouted, grabbing his computer chair and throwing it against the wall. It crashed to the ground after making a dent in the wall. The Sheriff took a step back, fear in his eyes.

"Stiles—"

"Just don't, Dad. I need to do this on my own, alright? Just…leave me alone."

The Sheriff looked at the ground, nodding. As he left, Stiles thought he saw tears in his father's eyes. He swore loudly, kicking his bed and falling to the floor in a heap. He felt so alone and so terrible. He didn't even want to fight the demon anymore.

_That's the first time you've called me a demon. You're learning._

"It doesn't fucking matter anymore, does it?"

_No, you're right. Now go to the nursing home with Derek and Scott._

Derek drove into the nursing home's parking lot and saw Stiles standing next to his blue Jeep. He stopped the car and jumped out.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Helping," Stiles said.

"If you help us, it'll kill you."

"So?"

Derek felt that odd feeling again. Stiles was so willing to lay down his life to save Scott's. And Derek's.

"WHAT IS THAT?" Scott shouted, pointing at the roof.

Derek whipped around and saw a giant wolf, the Alpha that bit Scott, crouched on the roof, looking at them as if he was hungry. Derek shifted quickly, growling, moving between the Alpha and Stiles, who was the most vulnerable.

Suddenly, the Alpha jumped off the roof and ran towards Stiles. Derek roared and leaped at the Alpha, stopping him in his tracks. They wrestled for a few minutes before Derek bit the Alpha's arm. The Alpha roared in pain and ran away. Derek shifted back, panting.

"Are you alright?" Stiles asked, stepping towards him.

"That was here because of you!" Derek said. "If you hadn't shown up, we could've talked to Peter and solved all of this!"

"I looked in his room before you got here," Stiles said. He was keeping his distance from Derek. "He wasn't there."


	6. Chapter 6

"What the hell do you mean, he's not there?" Derek couldn't believe it. Did they move Peter to a different room at night?

"I mean, he wasn't in his room," Stiles said, folding his arms. "It was empty."

"That's not possible."

"That's what I saw."

Derek stared at him. What the hell was happening? "Does the demon know what happened?"

Stiles paused. "No. But he thinks Peter's the Alpha."

"What?" Derek said. "No way. He's been catatonic for years."

"We saw him non-catatonic," Scott said.

Derek couldn't think, not when he was worried that the Alpha would pop out of nowhere. "Come on, let's go back to my house."

_Have you ever kissed anyone?_

"No," Stiles said. He was driving behind Derek's car, alone because Derek wanted to talk to Scott.

_How would you like to?_

"What the hell are you getting at?"

_I have a plan._

"Yeah, I got that. What is it?"

_I won't tell you._

"Thanks. Okay. Let me have control at Derek's, okay?"

_Why?_

"I don't want to miss anything."

The demon laughed. _Developing a crush?_

"What? No! Why would you think that?"

_Because it's obvious, Stiles. I see your thoughts when you look at him._

"That's not true. Shut up."

_Well, I think we can use this to our advantage._

Derek needed to talk to Scott alone, so he asked Stiles to drive his own car separately.

"Scott, what the hell is up with Stiles?"

"He's possessed," Scott said.

"No, I know that, but why is he so…stupid?" Scott blinked at him. "Why is he so keen to lay down his life for us?"

"That's how he is. He's loyal."

Derek sighed. "It's stupid. Crazy. He's going to die."

"Are you sure?"

"If he keeps being stupid, yeah."

They arrived at the Hale house. Stiles pulled up a few seconds later. Derek couldn't help but stare at Stiles, confused. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He hadn't felt it in a long time, if ever.

"Why does the demon think Peter's the Alpha?" Derek said, stepping towards Stiles.

"He's never there when the Alpha shows up."

"But that's not possible, he's catatonic, he wasn't the Alpha when the fire happened." Derek was pacing the front yard. "I can't think right now. I need time alone. Stiles, drive Scott home."

The boys left. What the hell was going on? The demon thought Peter was the Alpha. What did the demon know that Derek didn't? Had the demon seen it and Stiles forgot? Stiles wouldn't forget.

About an hour later, Derek was still thinking hard about what was going on. Suddenly, he smelled Stiles. He waited behind the door, worried it was the demon. Stiles knocked on the door and came in. He was still himself.

"What's up?" Derek said.

"Do it," Stiles said. "Just…do whatever it takes to get rid of it. I can't stand it."

"Stiles—"

"I don't care if it kills me. Just make it stop." He looked so vulnerable and sad.

"I can't. It's not safe. It'd just possess me and that would be worse." He sighed. "It feeds off bad memories and takes control using your name. I have worse memories than you."

"Derek, please."

"No. I can't help you. I'm sorry."

Stiles sighed, turning away. He stopped at the door.

"Stiles, I said—"

Stiles turned and pinned Derek against the wall, kissing him on the mouth. Derek was caught off-guard; he closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss. He felt himself grow hard. Stiles pulled back and worked his way down Derek's torso, yanking off his belt and pulling down his jeans. This was so hot, and so…un-Stiles. Oh, God. Oh no.

Derek grabbed Stiles' shoulders and pulled him up; his eyes were black. Derek yelped, shoving Stiles backwards through a wall. Stiles got up, brushing off dust; Derek quickly pulled his pants back up.

"You can't beat me with violence, Derek," it said. It used Stiles' voice and that made Derek sick. "If you kill the body, you only kill Stiles. And I think we both know how you feel about him."

Derek shifted, growling. It laughed.

"Derek, Derek, don't be responsible for another death."

He stopped, tears coming to his eyes. How could it know?

"You let down your guard when Stiles kissed you," it said. "You killed your family, Derek. How much guilt can one man carry around? Sure, blame it on Kate, but you know the real story. You're the only one who knows."

"Stop it."

"No, I rather enjoy this. Oh, Derek, you have so much pain. Maybe I should possess you instead. Stiles is too happy."

Derek thought about it, thought about letting it possess him to save Stiles, but the first thing it would do would be to kill Stiles. He couldn't.

There was a sudden roar. Derek whipped around and saw the Alpha behind him. It bounded forward at Stiles, who leaped out of the way. Derek jumped in between them, noticing Stiles' eyes were back to normal. He looked terrified.

"RUN!" Derek shouted. Stiles looked from Derek to the Alpha before nodding and running to his car. Derek leaped at the Alpha, trying to bite its neck. It threw him off; he landed against the fireplace, dust flying everywhere. When the dust cleared, the Alpha was gone. Instead, Peter was standing in the middle of the room.

"You really should've listened to him," Peter said calmly. "He was right. I'm the Alpha."

"What the hell is happening?"

"Listen closely, Derek."

Stiles was driving like a maniac, trying to escape the Alpha. Derek had told him to run, so he ran, and now he was driving much too fast. He slowed slightly, checked the rearview mirror every few seconds.

"Why did you do that?"

_Do what?_

"Kiss him. That wasn't fair!"

_I was giving you both what you wanted._

"No, I didn't want that—"

_Don't lie to me, Stiles. I see your thoughts. You were doing exactly what you wanted._

"Just leave me alone!"

_I'm afraid I can't. Not now we know who the Alpha is._

"You freaked out and ran away at the sight of it."

It took over again.

"It's afraid of you?" Derek said, now shifted back to human form.

"Yes," Peter said, pacing the living room. "I'm the Alpha. The Alpha is stronger than other wolves and knows more."

"You know how to defeat it."

"Yes. But it's hard."

Derek sighed. "I know it is, I figured it wouldn't be easy."

"Derek, I need you to focus on the demon."

"I am—"

"You're focusing on the boy."

Derek looked at the ground. "Why did you bite Scott?"

"I needed a pack to deal with the demon. And I need you in that pack."

"Will it kill Stiles?"

"Derek—"

"If it'll kill him, I won't do it. I can't."

"Reconsider." Peter gave Derek a condescending look before leaving. Derek kicked the fireplace, knocking up a puff of dust. This was all going to shit. Why did he feel this way about Stiles?

Scott was about to fall asleep when his phone rang. It was Derek.

"Hello?" Scott said.

"Scott, Peter's the Alpha."

"Okay. What do we do now?"

He heard Derek sigh. "He knows how to get rid of the demon. But he can't guarantee Stiles won't be killed."

"Jesus Christ…"

"I know."

Scott thought for a second. Would it be better to lose his best friend but beat the demon, or let the demon control someone more powerful?

"We have to try, Derek."

"I know."

They were silent for a second.

"I should go," Derek said. "Talk to you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's a lacrosse game."

"Then we'll need to fix Stiles fast."

Derek knew what he needed to do, but he hated having to do it. Peter had explained how to kill it. They just had to lure it to the Hale house somehow.

Peter came to visit him before they had to lure Stiles, to prepare. Derek couldn't talk to him. He was too nervous.

"Come on, Derek," Peter said. "We need to do this. I know it sucks but it needs to happen."

"How sure are you that he'll survive?"

Peter sighed. "There's about a fifty-fifty chance that he'll live."

"That's not good enough."

"That's all we have." Peter grabbed a long stick and started drawing the necessary circle to imprison Stiles and the demon. "He won't be able to leave this circle once he's in it. Then it'll be easy."

"We can't let Stiles die, Peter. He's innocent."

"There were innocents in the house," Peter said. "When the fire happened."

"I know—"

"We warned you about her, Derek! We told you she was bad news!"

"I know, I was young and stupid!"

"Yeah, that's obvious. Even Laura didn't like her!"

"Don't you dare say Laura's name!" Derek shouted, getting in his uncle's face. "She's dead and I could've stopped it!"

"You couldn't have stopped me."

Derek growled, shifting. "You killed her."

"I needed to be the Alpha to defeat the demon—"

"You killed my sister."

"She let her guard down, and she would've been an awful Alpha—"

Derek grabbed his throat, lifting him into the air. "I'll kill you."

"If you kill me, there's no chance of saving Stiles."

Derek stared at his uncle, panting. He had to save Stiles. So he threw Peter at a tree and shifted back to human form. Peter got up and brushed himself off.

"You need to go get Stiles," Peter said, as if nothing had happened. "You and Scott can restrain him, if needed."

"Fine." Derek started to leave.

"Derek." He turned. "I'm sorry."

Derek huffed and left.

_They're going to try tonight._

"How do you know?"

_Because the Alpha is the smartest wolf and knows how to defeat me._

"Well what do you want me to do?"

_Resist. Derek will try to collect you. You must resist._

"Or what?"

_Or I'll resist for you._

Derek came with Scott a few hours later. Stiles was still just sitting in his room, terrified. He tried to resist, but he couldn't. Not with two wolves. So he was carted into the back of Derek's car and driven to the Hale house. Once there, Derek gripped his upper arms and dragged him to a spot in the front yard. Peter was there too. Stiles wanted to say something to Derek, but the demon wouldn't let him talk.

"You know what this is," Peter said, motioning to a circle drawn in the dirt.

_Do not step into that. That is a prison_.

Peter took his silence as agreement. "Derek can force you into the circle, you know that. Even with super strength, you can't improve much on such a…frail being."

Stiles felt angry; he wasn't frail. The demon took his voice and spoke: "I will never step into the circle."

"Fine. We'll make you." He nodded to Derek, who lifted Stiles off the ground and moved towards the circle. The demon took over Stiles' legs and kicked back; Derek dropped him, yelling out in pain. Stiles turned, wondering if he was okay. The concern in his heart pushed the demon back slightly.

_Do not step into the circle. Or I will kill you and Derek and everyone._

Stiles was breathing heavily, the demon freezing him in place. He couldn't move. If he died here, he'd never get to see his father again. His father was torn apart after his mother's death; it would only be worse when he lost his son. Stiles' heart filled with sadness, and suddenly he could move. He quickly stepped inside the circle, and the demon took over.


	7. Chapter 7

Derek watched Stiles step into the circle, surprised that he could control his body. As soon as he crossed the line, his head whipped back and his eyes turned black. He started to writhe in pain. It glanced from Peter to Derek to Scott.

"I know what you're going to do," it said. "But saying my name will kill him."

"Peter said there's a chance he'll survive," Derek said.

It laughed. "You might want to ask again."

Derek stared at Peter, who looked at the ground. "I needed you to help me—"

"You lied to me!" Derek stepped forward, dangerously close to shifting. "You told me he could survive!"

"He can't. The force of the demon's death will kill him."

Derek felt tears sting his eyes. "No. There has to be another way."

"We need to get rid of the demon."

Derek turned and looked into what were Stiles' eyes. He'd already killed his family; he could've prevented his sister's death; he couldn't let Stiles die. No way.

"Take me."

"Derek!" Peter said.

"No, I don't care. Take me. Then they can defeat you."

"Derek, no," Scott said, "you can't! Stiles wouldn't want you to!"

"I don't care, Scott! I will not be responsible for another death!"

The demon was watching them, smirking slightly but still in obvious pain.

"Derek—"

"TAKE ME, DAMMIT!" Derek shouted, stepping towards Stiles.

"I can't leave the circle. You have to come in here."

"Derek, think," Peter said. "Why would it be agreeing to this?"

"I don't care," Derek said, staring into the black, soulless eyes. "I don't want to watch Stiles…"

"Take me." Peter stepped forward, almost at the circle.

"What? No!"

"Derek, I can't let you die for this. I have to protect you."

The demon smiled. "Oh, but I don't want you. I want Derek. I want to watch Stiles lose his mind watching Derek die. That would be fun."

Derek leapt forward, but Peter stopped him. "It's taunting you, Derek. Calm down." He turned to the demon. To Stiles. "You will take me. Because you won't have a choice." He stepped into the circle.

The demon screamed. Stiles threw his head back, this time a dark mist leaving his lungs and moving towards Peter. Stiles stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, safely outside the circle. He looked confused, disoriented.

"Peter," Derek said. Peter turned, but his eyes were black. "So this is it, then."

"Yes," it said, using Peter's voice. "This is it. It seems that Peter knew something I didn't. In the circle, I am drawn to the most powerful creature. Stiles was weak. Peter is strong."

Derek stepped forward, toe against the line, breathing fast. Peter stepped forward. They were nearly face-to-face, only a few inches separating them.

"You didn't say goodbye," it said. "You're about to lose your last family member, and you didn't even bother to say goodbye."

Derek felt tears in his eyes again, but didn't stop glaring at the thing inhabiting his uncle's body. He had never felt so much hatred for anything.

"This will not save your precious Stiles. He's mortal and running with wolves. He'll be a casualty of war. You bought him months, maybe years, but he will die."

"And when that day comes," Derek said, "I'll avenge him. For now, goodbye." He took a deep breath, stepping back a few paces. "Belial."

Peter's head snapped back and his arms flew out; he looked like Jesus on the cross. A high-pitched scream left his mouth as the dark mist enveloped the body and started to disappear. Soon, Peter's whole body was gone, a pile of dark dust in his place. The scream echoed in the woods, but the source was gone.

Stiles tried to sit up, but Derek shook his head. There was one more step.

Derek reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of holy water. He moved forward, knelt by the circle, and poured the water around the pile of dust. Then he grabbed a shovel and piled dirt on top of it. Finally, he drew the symbol of a cross on top of the dirt. It was done.

"Is it…?" Stiles asked, moving cautiously.

"Yeah," Derek said. "It's gone."

They were all silent, standing around the pile of dirt that held the remains of Peter. Stiles put his hand on Derek's shoulder. Derek looked from the hand to Stiles' face. He could tell Stiles wanted to ask if he was okay. He nodded. Stiles moved his hand down Derek's arm and grasped his hand. It felt good.

After a moment, Stiles jumped, as if remembering something, and pulled up his shirt. "The spot's gone!" he said.

"What spot?"

"I had a spot on my chest when it was…" He trailed off, but Derek knew what he meant.

"It's gone now, Stiles."

Stiles looked at him, a sly smile spreading across his face. Then he stepped forward and kissed him, and it was so much better than before because this was actually Stiles, and Derek kissed him back, and Scott made fake gagging noises but Derek didn't care.

For once, it seemed like everything was going to be okay.

Of course, Derek knew better than to believe that was true. They may have won the battle, but they could still lose the war.


End file.
